


Day Forty-Six

by kuumai



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aromantic Asexual Keith (Voltron), Fluff, Gen, Hair Braiding, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 10:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19060696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuumai/pseuds/kuumai
Summary: Keith and Lance try unsuccessfully to wash their lions, and Lance braids Keith's hair.





	Day Forty-Six

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justheretobreakthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justheretobreakthings/gifts).



> Set on the Atlas, in the first half of season 8.

“Don’t the lions clean themselves?”

Lance released an exasperated sigh as though Keith had asked the most unbelievable question known to any species in the universe. “Yes, Keith, they clean themselves.” He climbed onto the paw of the red lion, flinging suds onto the floor of the lions’ storeroom, dangerously close to where Keith was standing. “The point is to bond with your lion. It’s like doing face masks or painting nails with friends.”

Keith examined the myriad of cleaning supplies arranged on the floor around him with hesitation. “I’ve never done either of those things before.”

“Oh, man, you are missing out!” Lance exclaimed, scrubbing the red lion’s leg with a damp sponge with fervor. Then he gasped so dramatically that Keith was surprised he didn’t inhale the soap that was beginning to drip off of Red. “Dude, I could braid your hair! That would be amazing. It’s gotten so long.” After a pause, he added as an afterthought, “I mean, if you’re cool with it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Keith said with a shrug. He selected a sponge and a bucket of soapy water and hauled them the short distance to the black lion. Someone had, actually, braided Keith’s hair before; Krolia did so a couple times during the two years they spent living on that weird space whale. The feeling of someone fixing his hair was more calming and pleasant than Keith cared to admit.

Meanwhile, Lance’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Keith as though he’d just said he preferred space goo to the meals served on the Atlas. “What?” Keith asked.

Lance shook himself from his stupor and turned his focus back to scrubbing Red’s leg. “Oh, uh, nothing. Guess I wasn’t expecting you to agree to that.”

“Okay?” Keith dipped his sponge into the water and brought it to the silvery metal of Black’s paw. “I still don’t really get the point of this.”

“Oh, come on. You and Black could use some bonding time,” Lance said absently.

Keith had to focus to keep a neutral expression at that. Even though he knew Lance hadn’t meant it as a jab, and even though he finally felt comfortable in his position as the black paladin, it still stung. Keith still felt strongly the distance that had formed between him and the black lion—between him and the rest of the team—in the time he had spent away. On the other hand, they had spent six months together on Earth while waiting for the Atlas to be up and running. That time was nice, cathartic, although it took a while for Keith to grow accustomed to not going on missions day and night.

Lance was right, as it turned out. Spending time with Black while doing a mindless activity was exactly what Keith needed to relax. He became so relaxed, in fact, that he didn’t notice Lance sneak up on him an indeterminate amount of time later to squeeze his sponge over Keith’s head.

Keith whirled around, droplets of water flying from his bangs, and raised his sponge to return the favor. Lance narrowly managed to duck out of the way, soaking his shirt rather than his hair.

“Hey! I styled my hair nicely this morning!” Lance whined.

“Oh, come on, you started it.”

Rather than respond, Lance flung his sponge directly into Keith’s face. Without missing a beat, Keith dropped to his knees and brought his hands up to cover his face. “Ah! Lance, you got soap in my eyes.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Owww....”

Lance kneeled beside Keith and replied, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’m—“

With a smirk, Keith snatched up his bucket of water and dumped it on Lance. “Just kidding.”

 

 

 

 

After drying both the floor and themselves, the two decided to go ahead with the hair-braiding idea. It was not as if they were being very productive anymore, what with all the horseplay that had occurred.

Lance plopped dutifully onto a couch in the Atlas’s unusually deserted commons, armed with a comb, hair tie, and pins. Based on the time, everyone was likely in the cafeteria for dinner, Keith figured as he situated himself on the floor between Lance’s knees. He didn’t bother to point out that they were missing the meal, because he’d eaten a large lunch, and because Lance wouldn’t hesitate to announce if he were hungry.

Keith made a show of stretching his neck and extending his legs in front of himself.

Lance snorted. “Okay, Princess. You look rather excited to have your hair done.”

“Hey, you’re the one who asked to braid my hair in the first place. Might as well enjoy it.” Keith tilted his head back to smile cheekily up at Lance.

Lance flicked his forehead. “Shush. And face forward; I can’t braid your hair like this.”

Keith obliged. “Speaking of princesses, where’s your girlfriend?” he asked. “I figured you’d want to hang out with her.”

Keith, unfortunately, could not view Lance’s face to see if he turned red. It was hit or miss; Lance and Allura had been spending a lot of time together since the Atlas left Earth, so Lance may not have been too flustered at the phrasing of Keith’s question.

Lance began carding his fingers through Keith’s hair. “I’ve hung out with her tons recently. I mean, I love it, but I need some guy time too, you know?”

“Sure, sure,” Keith said, though truthfully, he didn’t know. He was far more content to pass time alone than the extroverted Lance was. Plus, Keith didn’t really see the difference between girl and guy time, as Lance would put it; either way, it was just spending time with friends, in Keith’s book.

“She’s probably talking with Romelle or with the Alteans. She’s super stressed about that whole situation.”

Keith only hummed in response. It sounded as though Lance and Allura had grown very close, but he could already tell that from how they interacted. It was endearing to see them form a closer bond; Keith was proud of how much they had matured recently. Lost in thought, it took a moment for Keith to tune back into Lance’s talking, which seemed never to stop.

“Don’t your bangs get, like, super annoying? They must make it difficult to see when fighting. They’re really long. Are you trying to grow them out? If so, you could brush them back instead of letting them just block your face. Or you could pin them back or something. Not sure how I could braid them back, since they’re way shorter than the rest of your hair. Maybe with a French braid. I don’t know. I’m out of practice with this kind of stuff. Used to braid my niece’s hair all the time, did you know that?”

Lance’s endless rambling could get irritating, but right then, it was honestly a weight off Keith’s shoulders. No pressure to hold a proper conversation. Keith let his eyes slide shut and gave one-word agreements when needed.

“It kinda feels like Allura’s my first girlfriend. I mean, she’s not, but she’s the first one I seriously like. I don’t know if you know this,” Lance said, a smirk nearly audible in his voice, “but I was a bit of a heartbreaker back in the day.”

Keith blinked his eyes back open and laughed lightheartedly, even as he wondered how the topic of conversation had returned to relationships. “Back in the day? You make it sound as though you’re super old now. You’re like….” He paused longer than he probably should have. “You’re like eighteen?”

“I am, in fact, ‘like’ eighteen. What a good friend you are,” Lance teased.

“Oh, give me a break. For me, it feels like you should be a lot older by now.”

“All right, old man,” Lance said. Keith could feel that Lance was nearly done with his hair. “How old are you, then? Counting the extra years from the weird quantum realm thing.”

“Twenty-one.”

Lance exhaled hard. “Wow. Okay.”

The corners of Keith’s mouth turned up of their own volition. “Come on, twenty-one isn’t that old.”

“It feels a lot older than eighteen, though!”

“If you say so.”

“Okay, Mr. Twenty-one-year-old," Lance said. "By the way, you were also quite the heartbreaker back at the Garrison.”

“I’m flattered,” Keith deadpanned.

“Really! Tall, dark, brooding. Rejected anyone that asked you out. You were super popular with the ladies.”

“Not really interested in the ladies.” So much for relaxation. Keith felt himself grow tenser by the second.

Lance’s hands paused for a moment in Keith's hair before he continued. “Nice. Pidge owes me ten dollars. Have any exes that I would know?”

Keith’s hands folding into fists at his sides. “No, Lance, I don’t. I meant—it’s just—" he sighed in frustration. "It's not about gender. I don’t like anyone in that way.”

“Oh,” Lance said, sounding to Keith like he was disappointed or perplexed or upset, and for a second Keith feared he would ask a stupid question or act like Keith was weird or _something_. But then Lance continued, “Quiznak! I guess I owe Pidge ten dollars, then.”

Keith frowned but relaxed a little in spite of himself. “You guys seriously made bets about my sexuality?”

Surprisingly, Lance didn’t attempt to defend himself. “Yeah, it does sound really stupid now. We made the bet forever ago. Maybe she’s forgotten and I won’t have to pay her.”

Despite how stupid the bet was, Keith was somewhat comforted that Pidge predicted that he wasn’t interested in anyone romantically. It helped to alleviate the pressure he felt to explain or defend himself.

“Okay.” Lance patted Keith on the shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “All done. It took approximately 9000 bobby pins, but I managed to braid all of it back, including the bangs.”

Keith drew himself up from the floor, a little sore from sitting in the same position for a while, and turned to face Lance. “I’m not looking forward to extracting 9000 bobby pins from my hair.”

“Oh, you’ll survive. It’s worth it.” Lance stood as well and stretched dramatically.

“Thanks, Lance.” Keith’s mouth curved into an earnest smile.

Lance shook his head and flapped a hand, as though physically deflecting Keith’s gratitude. “No problem. Thank you for indulging me. You deserve a break from black-paladin-ing.”

“Because that’s definitely a word.”

“Okay, Keith, no need for sass.”

“Shut up, Lance.”


End file.
